


A Rare Variety of Love

by dandelionpower, mosslover



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Early 20th Century, Class Differences, Flowers, Fluff and Slight Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Secret Relationship, Unrelated Fíli and Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 09:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionpower/pseuds/dandelionpower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosslover/pseuds/mosslover
Summary: It wasn't like Fili to miss their prearranged morning meetings: even in the midst of all the work in the garden springtime brought, they'd been able to see each other every day. But now Fili hasn't met Kili for over a week, and a seed of doubt plants itself in Kili's mind.





	A Rare Variety of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadowcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowcat/gifts).

> The prize for Kaetien for spring FRE 2019. Sorry about the massive delay - we hope you like this!

Small pebbles crunched beneath Kili’s boots as he marched down the empty garden pathway. The morning sun had just about made it over the treetops - Kili was a late riser - but the sharp golden light was not the only reason why his eyebrows were drawn low over his eyes.

A perfectly manicured lawn, edges as straight as the flight of an arrow, lined the path Kili was following. It led away from the manor house and its many windows, most of them thrown wide open by the servants to invite fresh spring air inside. It led past the flower beds that housed his mother’s prized blooms, past the low hedges around the gurgling fountain; Kili’s favorite reason to be outside as a child. 

He was no longer a child, though, and his favorite reason for spending time in the gardens awaited him a little further on the grounds, beyond the green turf and the herb and vegetable gardens. There, in the protective shade of the old willows by the stream, he was meeting Fili. 

He was supposed to be, in any case. If Fili was actually going to appear.

Kili lengthened his stride, eager to reach their habitual meeting place. Yet he dreaded the moment as well: he dreaded finding their secret spot empty. Fili hadn’t met him over a week now, with no word or explanation forthcoming. It wasn’t like him to miss their prearranged morning meetings: yes, it was springtime, but even in the midst of all the work on the manor grounds that the season brought, they’d been able to see each other for a little while every day so far. 

But then Fili had stopped coming and with each new day of his absence, Kili was growing increasingly restless and uncertain. 

It was enough that they had to hide their relationship from everyone else. But now Fili seemed to be hiding from _ him _ as well, as if the feelings they’d confessed to one another a few months ago didn’t count anymore - or those years of dancing around each other, years of covert looks and smiles, swallowed words and halting conversations, of struggling to find the courage to stand just a little bit closer, to say something meaningful, to touch - 

A smile crept onto Kili’s face as he thought of everything those recent months have brought. Each moment they’d been able to spend together had only made Kili want to be with Fili more, and every moment they were apart Kili counted down to their next meeting. Fili had been assuring Kili that his sentiments were the same...

Now, Kili wasn’t sure what was happening. What had changed? An aching uncertainty crept higher inside him with each step he took. Not even the subtle traces of Fili’s recent presence in this part of the garden - the freshly mulched rose bed, the newly constructed trellis for the budding clematis - could stem the shaky feeling from taking over. What usually sparked fondness and excitement was making Kili feel dejected and doubtful instead.

The truth was, these were not just reminders of Fili’s presence and of the job he was so passionate about. Whether Kili wished it or not, these were also reminders of how different their lives were, how vast the gap between their stations. They’d sworn they wouldn’t let these differences come between them, that they loved each other for who they were and not what they were.

But Kili couldn’t ignore the fact that while he had just stridden out of the house into a morning well-advanced, clad in a light suit pressed by someone else and his stomach full of breakfast which had been served on a silver platter, Fili had been out here for hours, toiling away in the dirt in his linen shirt and pants, a neckerchief tied around his neck to soak up the sweat that sun and hard work caused to run down the back of his neck. 

There had been nights when Kili had snuck into Fili’s attic room and tasted the salt on his skin while undoing the tight knot on Fili’s scarf. Not during the last week, though: if they couldn’t meet during the day, they couldn’t safely arrange a night time tryst, and Kili would never do anything that might put them at risk of being discovered. While for him, it might mean his mother’s wrath and a moment of shame, for Fili, the consequences would be much more disastrous… 

He cleared the hedge at the end of the flower garden, heading towards the brook. The willows slowly came into view and Kili’s heart trembled in his chest as he neared the place where Fili usually stood, a rake or a spade leaning against the wall next to him, a linen napkin with a few bits of food from the kitchen to tide him over till lunch unwrapped on top of the mossy stones. Most days, he would look up at the sound of pebbles crunching beneath Kili’s boots and that gorgeous smile would stretch his lips, lighting up those perceptive blue eyes. 

Kili made it past the last bend in the path, anticipation making his heart thump roughly inside his chest -

The wall was empty, the shade of the old willow’s spread-out branches sheltering no one. Kili’s heart sank all the way down to the gravel path under his feet and it felt like it was being crushed alongside the tiny white pebbles.

Where was Fili? He wasn’t sick, his mother would have said something, especially with the flower show coming up in a few days. Fili was her right hand, integral to her success even if he didn’t usually get the credit… 

But if he wasn’t sick, where was he? He’d always managed to find his way here for a few minutes, no matter the weather or season. 

Missing the meeting once or twice, Kili could understand. But seven days in a row… if Fili had skipped seeing Kili this many times, it had to be because he didn’t want to see Kili anymore. 

The thought hurt, like a stab to Kili’s already scraped heart. Had he said something, done something the last time they had seen each other? He racked his brain but nothing sprang to his mind as a potential cause of Fili’s sudden withdrawal.

He stood and waited for a good half hour next to the cool, mossy wall, hoping against hope that Fili might yet appear and explain his absences away. He wasn’t sure he could bear it if the two of them broke it off: to lose the solace they’d found in one another, to have it all drift away like cherry blossoms on april breeze - it was too much to contemplate.

When he finally turned back towards the house, estate management duties he’d fought hard to be entrusted with awaiting him, he couldn’t help but feel defeated.

The despondent feeling followed him all day. He had a hard time putting on a brave face as he went through his tasks, trying to be at least a little useful in the matters of management. He’d been of age for over a year now, but his mother still liked to hold most matters in her own iron grip. 

Later, his aunt and cousins arrived for tea which was served in the garden. Kili, usually chatty and generous with his laughter, found it difficult to gather enough focus to even join the conversation. Instead, he gazed across the garden in a dream-like state, wondering where Fili was and what he was doing, what he was _ thinking _-

His mother sent him a reproachful look when yet again he failed to contribute to the conversation. Kili mumbled something and flashed an unconvincing smile at his relatives, then stared at his plate with no real appetite. He glanced up - the sun was just dipping behind the house and the afternoon was starting to tip towards evening - when out of the corner of his eye he spotted the familiar white of a linen shirt and the bright red of Fili’s neckerchief. 

His heart hitched and the fork clattered out of his hand onto the gilded china plate. Fili was walking towards the back of the garden at a swift pace, a flowerpot tucked under one arm and a set of shears in the other.

The desire to go after him nearly choked Kili. _ Look at me, look at me _ , he chanted at Fili in his mind, sending the plea across the smooth expanse of the lawn that separated them. _ Please, for just one second, I need to know what’s going on, if you still care… _

But Fili kept on going without looking around. From the stiffness of his back, Kili could tell that Fili was aware of being watched but he didn’t turn around, and he didn’t look at Kili.

The tea in Kili’s cup was cold by now and the cucumber sandwich in his plate still untouched. He excused himself to the guests and also to his mother who gave him a disapproving look. He pretended not to notice and left the shade of the large umbrella over the table, fidgeting with one button of his waistcoat. 

Kili had never been one to take things lying down. He was much of the proactive kind and having to witness Fili’s rejection from afar, without being able to confront him about it, was worse than anything. He strode down the terrace stairs and onto the garden path. His lady mother would no doubt be busy entertaining for at least another hour. Cousin Dain was known for his tendency to recount his old war tales in great many details and being unstoppable once he began. This gave Kili plenty of time to find the gardener and have a conversation with him without being interrupted or raise suspicion. He raked his brain to find what could have caused Fili to lose interest in him. What had Kili done to deserve that rejection? Did he really want to know? “Yes. Yes I do,” he decided, taking the path he had seen Fili walk a little earlier. He hated the idea that this love, coming to full bloom so recently between them, would have withered already in Fili’s heart. But if this liaison had to come to an end, Kili felt like he deserved an explanation at the very least.

The path crossed the south end of the manor’s orchard and led to the glasshouse where his mother kept her rarest botanical acquisitions. Kili had been forbidden to go there as a child. She always feared her exotic cacti and delicate orchids would fall victim to her son's antics. Out of habit and even as an adult, Kili still avoided the place. It was his mother’s private sanctuary and she seldom shared it. Fili was the exception. She respected the connoisseur in him.

Through the glass panels and between two potted palm trees, Kili spotted a flash of blond hair. Fili was leaning over the potting table, eyebrows furrowed and absorbed by his task. He must have heard it when Kili opened the door and stepped inside the damp heat of the glass house, but Fili did not even lift his head or look over his shoulder to acknowledge his presence. 

A lump formed in Kili’s throat and a sudden need to run away seized him. He did not, however. 

Fili was completely engrossed in whatever he was writing down in his notebook. His lips were moving and his eyes darted back and forth from his notes to the numerous pots of tall, violet flowers on the table. 

Kili cleared his throat and Fili jumped as if stung by a bee. One of his suspenders slipped off his shoulder and he hastened to rearrange his outfit at the sight of Kili. “What are you doing here,” he blurted out, looking almost panicked.

Kili frowned. ”Well, good day to you too.” 

“What can I do for you?” Fili asked, falling instantly into the role of a servant with his master. 

They were not in their usual meeting spot or shielded from view by the veil of night, but there was no need for Fili to be so formal, Kili thought, or to act as if nothing had ever happened between the two of them. 

“I only wish to speak to you,” Kili explained. 

Fili glanced at his notebook. “I’d be glad, but please can this wait? I’m sorry, but I’m very busy at the moment.” 

“Is it also why you’ve been avoiding me?” 

Fili’s eyes widened and to his credit, he looked genuinely shocked by the accusation. “I’m not avoiding you. I thought we agreed that we would meet whenever we’re free to do so, and, as you might know, your mother is determined to win this year’s competition at the flower show. I’ve been at it nights and days.” 

Kili’s was not going to be tamed so easily. He made a gesture of disdain toward the violet flowers. “Those stupid flowers are going to grow whether you stare at them all day long or not. I think you’re looking for excuses. Why aren’t you being honest with me?”

Fili slammed his notebook shut. His face paled and his voice was seething when he replied: “You want honesty? I’m going to give you honesty: not all of us have the privilege of being born with a silver spoon in hand. Some of us actually have to work to make a living. If your mother decides that she wants a specific type of flower for the beginning of spring even if those flowers usually bloom at the beginning of summer, I have to stay up all night and shovel coal to heat the glasshouse. She has expectations and I have to meet them. Otherwise, I’ll lose my job and starve. “ He glared at Kili. “But it’s not like you can understand. People applaud you just for showing up on time at tea. That’s why you feel the need to invent drama when there’s none: because you’re bored. If you wanted a lover who’s always available to fall at your feet, you should have courted a rich dandy from those clandestine clubs in the city, not your mom’s gardener.”

Kili had not anticipated getting such a scathing rebuff and he could only watch, speechless, as Fili grabbed his straw hat and fled out the glasshouse. 

Once the initial shock had passed, Kili's legs set into motion. Red-faced and short of breath, he found himself rushing back all the way to the manor and slamming the door behind him. 

"Kili? Darling? Is that you?" His mother's voice came from the drawing room across the hall. 

He could swear she had a sixth sense to call on him at the most inconvenient of times. He knew better than to try and avoid her, but he could not let her see him in that state either. She would fret and ask too many questions he was unwilling to answer. Kili slumped back against the nearest wall, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. 

"Kili? Could you come here a second? I need your opinion on something." 

Kili rested his head against the cool, plaster surface and sighed. "I'm coming, mother." He dragged his feet to the drawing room where his mother was waiting for him, surrounded by numerous baskets of the violet flowers Kili had seen earlier in the glasshouse. 

He flashed his mother the most convincing smile he could muster, but she frowned immediately. 

"Are you feeling unwell, sweetheart? You haven't eaten anything for tea, and you look a little flustered. Even Aunt Hilda mentioned before she left that you appeared somewhat out of sorts, and she's not usually the most observant woman." 

"I'm fine," Kili grumbled. 

"You shouldn't be spending so much time outside under the sun," she chastened him, "people with a pale complexion such as yours should avoid too much exposure to the elements.

Kili chose a diversion tactic to derail her from that line of inquiry. " What did you want to ask me about?" 

"Look," she said, turning around the crystal vase in which she had been arranging the violet flowers along with yellow mimosa cuttings. "I think this is how I wish to present my new variety of gladiolus at the flower show. What do you think?"

She waited for his reaction. 

It took some time to come. 

For the first time, Kili paid real attention to the aspect of the flowers, and now that he did, he realized how unique and simply spectacular they were. It was the first time he saw gladiolus flowers with triple layers of overlapping petals. And those petals were so dark and smooth they looked like they were made of expensive velvet. The gladiolus were also tall, very tall, with at least forty flowers on each stem, so heavy that the stems could hardly support the weight of the blooms. At the center of each flower, the corolla tantalized the spectator with a hint of gold and copper colors; like the very first stars in a violet night sky. Such horticultural prowess could only have been successful after several years of careful selection and cross-pollinating. It must have taken a tremendous amount of work, patience and care to achieve that result. 

"They are….. they are beautiful," Kili answered, mindful of the understatement he was making. 

His mother scoffed. "Beautiful? They are magnificent! I can already see the envious grimace on Irma Langston's face when she sees those at the show. It's all she deserves for calling my daylilies dull, that viper!" 

Kili wasn't interested in the ongoing feud between his mother and some other lady of the local aristocratic circle. His eyes fell on a pile of wicker baskets that would ultimately contain the bouquets on the day of the flower show. Each of them had a label that read: _ Lady Dis Oakenshield of Erebor Manor, presenting the Gladiolus Kiliansis. _

Kili grabbed one of the labels and tore it off the string that linked it to the basket. He read it again, out loud this time. "Gladiolus Kiliansis?" 

"Oh yes," Lady Oakenshield said with a smile. "We thought that it would be fitting to name it as an homage to my only son. I hope you don't mind."

"We?" Kili repeated. 

"Fili was the one who suggested it, actually," she admitted, not aware of the turmoil it had set into her son's heart and mind. 

She said something else, but he did not hear nor listen. He was already on his feet and heading for the door, the label crushed into his fist.

She tried calling him. "Where are you going, Kili?" But she got no reply; only the sound of the back door slamming shut once again. 

Marching across the now empty patio, it was all Kili could do to stop himself from breaking into a run. He had to see Fili, now: he’d been such a fool, such an insensitive and conceited idiot to Fili, the kind he’d always promised to himself not to become. Fili had been working very hard, subjected to every whim of his mother’s horticultural ambitions. Yet in the midst of the days and nights of toil, his mind had been on Kili, and the fact that he’d proposed the new gladiolus variety to be named after Kili was a gesture containing both such risk and devotion that it took Kili’s breath away. 

Fili was right: Kili was a spoiled brat who never lacked anything, and he’d invented drama where it did not exist. And now he had to fix the damage he’d done. He’d never seen Fili so frustrated as when he’d lashed out at Kili in the glasshouse; yet if Kili took the long nights and days of toil and Kili’s sudden, unfounded accusation into account, he could understand why Fili’s kettle had boiled over just then. 

Where was Fili now? Kili cast his eyes frantically across the grounds. He doubted Fili had returned to the glasshouse, and it was too early for him to retire to the kitchens for dinner. Kili checked the flower garden and the vegetable patch, then the garden shed where all the tools and supplies were kept - but there was no sign of Fili anywhere. Despairing, he headed further on to check the orchards, finding them empty as well. The little piece of paper in his hand was the only thing that kept him focused; he unclenched his fist and stared again down at the words written on it in fancy script. 

He steeled himself and went on, finally making his way back to the willow tree where they had been set to meet earlier that day. 

At first, he hadn’t even registered the figure sitting with their back to the wall, but then a flash of red scarf and blond hair told him he’d found what he’d been after. Kili’s chest filled with a mix of relief, nervousness, and resolve as he took in Fili’s unmoving form; the gardener was leaning over his journal, with with a pencil poised over the pages, but his hand was just as motionless as the rest of him. His mind seemed to have drifted off somewhere else, his eyes fixed on a spot of grass next to his boots. 

A crease in his forehead hinted at troubled thoughts, and a feeling of guilt flashed through Kili’s mind for adding to Fili’s worries. They’d hoped to be each other’s solace, after all, not an additional source of pain. 

Kili stepped forward, trying to gather the right words to say. His mother always told him he spoke too rashly, without thinking, and it had been true earlier: he’d angered Fili. Now he fervently hoped to do better, to make amends. 

“Fili?” he called out after taking a few cautious steps forward on the soft grass.

The gardener startled, the journal sliding off his lap as he jumped to his feet at the sight of Kili. 

Kili rushed forward to pick up the book and Fili’s pencil, both to help and to use it as an excuse to cover the remaining distance that separated them. He brushed off a few specks of dirt from the pages, then handed it to Fili who accepted it without meeting Kili’s eye.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low, too polite. “I’m sorry, you startled me.”

Kili’s heart ached at the uneasiness between them. Carefully chosen words be damned. He brandished the little piece of paper in front of Fili’s face and blurted out: “You told my mother that she should name the gladiolus after me?” 

And despite Lady Dis’ best efforts to teach Kili polite manners, all the emotion he would ideally be restraining right now bled directly into his voice.

Fili’s blue eyes flashed up to the card and then met Kili’s gaze. He looked rueful, as if he’d just been caught doing something very embarrassing. “Oh, I -” he lowered his gaze again and shrugged. “I hadn’t really meant to suggest it out loud, to be honest.” He paused, rubbing his forehead before continuing. “But the colors - they reminded me of you so much, and when your mother wondered what to name the new variety, your name just seemed to slip out without my bidding… I’m sorry.” He looked up, straight into Kili’s eyes once more. “I hope it hasn’t offended you or caused any trouble.”

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Kili entreated him. “It’s… the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen, and to know you’ve thought of me while working so hard on growing it…” He cleared his throat which was getting strangely full. “And my mother doesn’t suspect a thing. She took it entirely as a gesture of respect and honor. Though I doubt I deserve either of those from you, seeing how I treated you just today.”

Fili huffed softly as if disagreeing. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. I was tired and I _ have _been trying to come see you for days, but I haven’t had a single moment to myself this entire week, and -”

“Will you stop apologizing?” Kili interrupted. Seeing Fili so pained, so ready to take the blame for their argument upon himself, was hard to bear. “I’ve been looking all over the grounds for you so I can say I’m sorry, and so far _ you’ve _said it three times. Will you please let me have a turn?”

That earned him a smile from Fili, who tilted his head at him, a spark returning to the muted blue eyes. “Oh, hmm. In that case, I suppose I’ll let you have a go.”

Kili dared reach out and take possession of Fili’s free hand, warm and callused and familiar within his own. “You were right, and I’m sorry,” he said, looking earnestly into Fili’s face. “I didn’t realize how much you’ve had on your plate lately and I treated you abominably. I acted exactly like that spoiled, privileged person I promised I’d never become. And here you go creating amazing, intricate flowers and naming them after me in the meantime. Will you please forgive me?" 

Fili’s face softened. “Kili… It’s already forgiven,” he assured him, then hesitated. “You truly don’t mind about the name?” 

“No, quite the opposite. I’m honored.” It wouldn’t be wise to kiss Fili here, though Kili really, really wanted to do so just now. His heart sang with relief, until he noticed the tired lines that contoured Fili’s eyes. He frowned. “I am going to speak to mother about her obsession with the flower show, however. She takes it too far - who cares if her mortal enemy wins once in a while? It’s not worth the excessive strain she puts on you.”

Fili shrugged, but he seemed touched by Kili’s sentiment. “Ah, I don’t mind it so much, though this year it took a lot more effort than usual. But at least there is an end in sight to all the extra work, and as soon as the exhibition is over, we can go back to our regular meetings. I did miss you, you know.”

Kili thought quickly. He’d missed Fili too, and he was eager to spend time with him soon, but he didn’t want to add to the strain of Fili’s last few days. “Do you have a lot of tasks left to do tonight?” he asked. “Perhaps I could help you, as long as there’s no danger of me ruining anything.”

Fili’s eyebrow lifted in mild surprise. “Well, you could, if it wouldn’t seem untoward… It’s not much for tonight, I just have to water some new seedlings that were planted earlier and check on the glasshouse plants.” He gave a crooked grin. “You could come with me and get a little more acquainted with your namesake.”

“Oh, you mean the other ‘kili’, the one you’ve been spending so much time with?” the brunet teased before turning serious once more. “I’d love that, Fili. But as soon as the tasks are done, you must be off to sleep, to make up for all those hours you’ve lost this week by getting up so early.”

“Would it be too much to ask for a loan of your shoulder as a pillow? For a little while at least?” Fili said, and the request melted Kili’s heart: Fili seldom asked for anything. Even before the question was finished, Kili was ready to grant a positive answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading - please feel free to let us know what you thought ;)


End file.
